


Dorian's Surprise

by itzteegan



Series: Kinktober 2020 [28]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Gags, Gay, Gay Sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Porn, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Power Bottom Lavellan, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Dorian Pavus, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27253606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzteegan/pseuds/itzteegan
Summary: Lysander Lavellan sneaks into the Pavus estate far earlier than his expected arrival and gives his Magister lover a surprise.
Relationships: Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Series: Kinktober 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949518
Kudos: 39





	Dorian's Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 28: Gags

Sighing, Lysander Lavellan hefted one of Dorian's many books in his hand, flipping through the pages with newly-practised ease. It hadn't been easy adapting to his singular arm - a change he was still getting used to in some respects - but at least the process of sneaking into Minrathous was about the same. Unfortunately, Dorian hadn't been in his home office when he'd arrived, and so he was relegated to reading whatever could be found to pass the time. Sure, he was more than welcome in the rest of the Pavus estate, but he'd arrived _early_ for once and he'd wanted to surprise Dorian.

It seemed the Magister could still keep him on his toes.

No matter, he could play the patient waiting game, idly flipping through books until he found something that caught his interest. He lounged in a nearby chair, taking a seemingly impossible contortion of a position that would make any healer worth their salt wince. It was fairly normal fare for Lysander, however, and it accommodated his missing arm well.

He waited, then, for perhaps a couple more hours yet, becoming increasingly bored no matter how interesting he personally found the reading material. It wasn't so much the subject matter as the fact that he'd wanted to see Dorian, and nothing in the world could ever hope to distract him from the mage. He fidgeting endlessly, his patience wearing thin, until finally the door swung open and his object of desire strode into the room, albeit doing a double take when he saw the Inquisitor sitting in one of his chairs like a cat, so casually, as if he owned every room he walked into. Indeed, he just barely seemed to remember to close the door behind him as he gaped.

Flashing Dorian a smile, he noted, "Finally! I was beginning to wonder ..."

Dorian seemed shocked to see him - of course, who expects to randomly come home to find their long-distance lover already there? - but by the way the very edges of his lips curled upwards, he was quite pleased, indeed. "Lysander! I didn't think you were getting in until this evening."

Unfurling himself from the chair, the Elf approached him with movements like a slinking cat. Part of it was an inherent Elvhen grace, the other part his finely-honed Rogue abilities. "I got an early break and took advantage of it. And now here I am." Reaching up, Lysander angled for a kiss, something Dorian eagrely gave into, melding their lips together in a long-awaited reunion. Lysander hummed, his happiness at seeing Dorian quickly melding into another feeling entirely, one of arousal. "Vhenan," he murmured, "come with me."

He led him to one of the chaise lounges, long enough to account for Dorian's height, and laid him back, straddling him as he leaned down for another kiss, and another, their passion quickly heating and spreading like a wildfire. Lysander wanted more, always more, but when his lips descended to lave over Dorian's throat, the Magister let loose a strangled moan, a sound loud enough that had one of his guards knocking on the door and asking, "Everything alright in there, Magister Pavus?"

Dorian quickly recovered long enough to shout back, "Perfectly fine! Just stubbed my toe." Shooting a glance back at Lysander, he whispered, "Did you not come in the front door?"

Lysander shrugged. "I wanted to surprise you. Didn't want to risk one of the servants giving it away."

His brow furrowed. "Later, we will discuss exactly how you snuck onto my estate and the gaps in my security. For now ..." Their lips swallowed any stray sounds that might have alerted anyone to the fact that Dorian was not alone in his study, but Lysander wasn't content to just leave things like that.

The Inquisitor parted from his lover just long enough to pull a very specific strip of cloth from his pocket, Dorian's eyes lighting up at he saw it. Lysander's cheeks heated, however, as he admitted, "I'll need some help with this now ..."

Dorian nodded, understanding as he took the cloth from him. They hadn't used gags since the Exalted Council, when Lysander lost his arm, and it would have been difficult - not impossible, just difficult - to tie one tightly and securely with only one hand. Dorian was more than willing to help, however, taking the cloth and positioning it around his mouth, a buffer to muffle any sounds he might make whilst in the heat of the moment.

With the cloth secure, Lysander resumed his lips' trek across Dorian's skin, nipping and licking at what he knew to be sensitive spots. Sure enough, the gag worked well to contain the moans that would have otherwise spilled from his lips, the soft sounds quiet enough to not pass through the thick wooden door and stone walls. His fingers made quick work of Dorian’s robes, he’d done it enough he could have likely stripped the man in his sleep, he was that practised. His clothing soon joined Dorian’s, scattered both on the floor and across the chaise lounge, and he smirked to both see and _feel_ his lover’s eyes on his body. His years running the Inquisition hadn’t been kind, as far as his collection of scars went, but he’d been able to maintain the lithe figure he’d grown into in his youth. His white vallaslin stood out against his darker skin, matching the hair that had grown out since his first days as the Herald of Andraste, not unlike how Dorian had grown his. Fetching a pot of oil from his bag, he coated his fingers, straddled Dorian’s thighs, and locked eyes with the Magister as he reached behind him and impaled himself on the slick digits.

Not one to simply sit there, Dorian reached for the pot, himself, coating his own fingers before he grasped both their erections and gave them a stroke. Lysander took a quick, deep breath, holding back the moan he wanted to let loose, settling instead for jerking his hips and letting his head fall back. Dorian’s hands were exceptionally smooth, and the feel of his fingers and palm encasing their lengths, pulling and twisting on them, it was enough to drive a man mad. Lysander knew he wasn’t going to last long like this, instead reaching down to ensure he’d added enough oil to both his entrance and to Dorian’s cock before he batted the mage’s hand away and moved to impale himself.

It had been some time since they’d managed to steal some time together and so Lysander went slow. Dorian was breathing heavily under his gag, but he made quite the lovely sight, his brow furrowed as he wrested control of himself from baser instincts. As Lysander bottomed out and took a deep breath, his hands caressed the rogue’s thighs before settling on his hips, his gaze - so full of longing - locked into his lover’s. Lysander braced himself with his lone arm against Dorian’s chest, taking a few small strokes to test the waters before he pulled him almost all the way out and then slammed back home.

The gag certainly had its work cut out for it as he could hear Dorian’s strangled cry behind it. It must have been muffled enough so that the guard outside the room didn’t hear, because there was no knock, no concerned check in, nothing. It was just the two men, heat, and passion, Lysander leaning down to lave Dorian’s neck with his lips as he twisted his hips. His teeth grazed the shell of the Magister’s ear as he flexed his hips, taking him as deep as possible. While normally, Dorian would have filthy little quips, the gag kept him quiet, and while Lysander missed the dirty talk, both the sight of Dorian restrained in some way coupled with the muffled moans and sighs that came from behind the gag was more than enough for him. He held back no longer, fucking him hard and fast, heedless of if anyone heard them or not.

Dorian’s breathing had gotten louder through his nose, his eyes now squeezed shut as his hips moved to keep rhythm. He was close, Lysander could tell, and it only took a sharp nibble at the juncture of his neck and shoulder and the Magister was shuddering through an orgasm. Lysander moaned softly, burying his face in Dorian’s shoulder to give himself a moment before he pushed himself up so he could use his remaining hand to finish himself off. Dorian was ahead of him, already reaching between them to take his member in his hand, pulling and twisting in just the way he knew would tip Lysander over the edge. The Elf had to bite down on the meat of Dorian’s bicep just to muffle the moan that ripped through him, and thankfully it was enough as they remained undisturbed while he spilled against the mage’s chest.

Once he’d composed himself, Lysander reached up to tug off the gag from around Dorian’s mouth. He got one kiss out of his lover before Dorian began with, “Now, about those loopholes in my security …”

Lysander’s shoulders shook as he gently laughed.


End file.
